


Summer's End

by Graymalkin



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Soiling, Wetting, messing, public defecation, public urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkin/pseuds/Graymalkin
Summary: A young lady enjoys a feast in a land with a unique custom.





	Summer's End

Miss Z couldn't believe what she heard. She knew this land had its own unusual customs. Everywhere she'd lived in did. Different autumnal feast traditions existed in different lands, and some didn't have any at all. On this local holiday, known as Summer's End, it was customary for bachelors to invite maidens to a public gathering and treat them to a lavish banquet. She could believe that much. She couldn't, however, believe what the maidens traditionally did to show their gratitude.

Miss Z's roommate Miss M, a strong contender for the Queen of Autumn this year, had told her of it. Miss K, her closest friend in this land, had told her of it. Even her wise and honest mentor Mrs. H had told her of it. She thought they were all making a jest. No such thing could be widely practiced in polite society.

Miss Z was overjoyed when Mr. D asked her to be his date to the Summer's End Banquet. Miss M congratulated her for catching the eye of such an eligible bachelor, and gave her some friendly advice for the upcoming date. Miss Z took that guidance with a dose of skepticism, and completely disbelieved the part about the display of gratitude. Miss K helped her pick out an appropriate dress for the occasion, and reminded her of the display of gratitude that was expected of her. Miss Z thought she was making sport of a newcomer's naïveté. Mrs. H coached her on the etiquette and protocol of the event, and she trusted her to the point of the traditional display of gratitude, which she assumed was a joke the local woman had slipped in. 

As she nervously lay awake the night before Summer's End, Miss Z wondered if the vulgar tradition of which she'd heard was true. She quickly perished the thought. Nothing of the sort could be found in any land, no matter how strange its customs.

The next evening, Miss Z donned her new dress and primped and preened herself until she embodied this land's ideal of feminine beauty. Mr. D escorted her to the Garden on the Hill, which had been furnished and decorated for the sumptuous outdoor feast that marked the Summer's End in the local tradition. It was a gorgeous array of late-blooming flowers and flame-leafed trees. Four long tables formed a semicircle around a gazebo, which housed a band and the throne of the Queen of Autumn.

An opulent banquet was laid out. The gentlemen paid for their dates to partake of it, and most brought additional food or drink they'd hand-picked for their sweethearts. They ate only bread and butter and drank only water. The Summer's End Banquet was for the pleasure of the ladies.

Many of the men also brought gifts and love letters for the beautiful maiden who'd been selected as this year's Queen of Autumn. She was left with a tableful of food and drink that was impossible for one woman to finish in one sitting, though she made a heroic effort.

Miss Z had never seen such a feast in any of the lands she'd travelled. There was roast goose, suckling pig, quiche, plum pudding, sweet and savory custards, and more kinds of fruit and cheese than she knew existed. There was egg nog and various rich and exotic forms of coffee and fruit juice. Mr. D's gift to her was a small spice cake coated with creamy glaze and candied fruit. Each bite nearly overwhelmed her senses.

Everything Miss Z saw before her looked delicious, and she tried to sample it all. At first she ate slowly and delicately, conscious that doing otherwise would normally be considered unladylike, but she enjoyed herself with abandonment when she noticed the behavior around here. The ladies were all eating with gusto. Some wore bibs to protect their dresses from their sloppy eating, some spilled without care, some loosened their corsets to make more room in their stomachs, and some even belched without excusing themselves. None of this wantonness was frowned upon. The men seemed happy that their dates were happy, and happy to be in their company.

They dined, chatted, listened to the music, and enjoyed the scenery and atmosphere of the last day of summer. When the golden sunlight waned, the Garden on the Hill was lit with hundreds of small lanterns. It was so beautiful it seemed like a dream.

Just as the immensely full women were beginning to get sleepy, the Master of Ceremonies made an announcement: "The Queen of Autumn will now lead the customary display of gratitude."

The Queen of Autumn rose from her throne and addressed her audience. She spoke of how a good meal satisfies the spirit as well as the body. She performed a call and response ritual with the ladies and gentlemen of the audience, telling of the women's happiness, the men's generosity, and the love that was growing in the hearts of both.

She ended her speech with these words: "No exhibition can demonstrate the pleasure in our minds or in our hearts. We can only demonstrate the pleasurable fullness of our organs of digestion and excretion. Let us put that pleasure on display for the gentlemen who filled us with food, drink, and love this evening."

What she did next made Miss Z's eyes bulge with disbelief and her heart race with fear. She gathered up the back of her skirt, allowing the audience to see inside, and bent her knees into a half-crouch. Her bloomers began to darken and glisten. Dark trails appeared on her stockings. A shimmering golden puddle formed on the stone walkway beneath her. One by one, large lumps poked at the inside of her bloomers, then broke off and fell into the loose fabric between her legs, which drooped from their weight.

Miss Z looked around the table. To her left, crackling and trumpeting noises resounded from beneath Miss M's gown. To her right, Miss K's pantaloons ballooned from the soft squelching matter being produced inside. All along her side of the table the young women were grunting and sighing as they produced puddles, lumps, stains, and stenches. The boys on the opposite side showed no signs of disgust. The girls' bestial displays were instead met with smiles and kisses.

Some faces on both sides of the table were looking at Miss Z, who seemed to be the only young lady with perfectly clean and dry clothes. She'd never imagined it was possible, but she was embarrassed for not wetting or soiling herself. She could scarcely look Mr. D in the face. 

Miss Z tried as hard as she could, but was only able to manage a faint trickle, much to the disappointment of her date. She was too ashamed to explain her failure. She'd received ample instructions, but had foolishly ignored them. All she could do was hope that things went better on the next holiday.


End file.
